Until The End
by CyrahX
Summary: Seven months have passed since the outbreak of a virus that turns people into zombies - and Dick Grayson is in the middle of it. Together with Damian, he searches for Tim who disappeared a while ago. Which lines would you cross to protect your only family? What would you do if you had to choose between two lives? And what is the cost for trying to survive...? Later Jay/Dick.
1. Prologue

**A\N:** **So this is another experimental fic. I'm a huge fan of zombie apocalypses, but this is the first time I (try to) write an angsty genre like this one.**

**What you'll read is the prologue, and I'd first like to know if you're interested in the fic. I'm not good with summaries (I promise I'll work on that one...), so the prologue will hopefully stir up your curiosity!**

**Another important information: This is a crossover!**  
**It contains characters and storylines from the Batman universe as well as from the video game universe of The Walking Dead. A weird combination, you think? I guess that's what happens when you want your favorite characters (and OTPs) to interact with each other. :D**

* * *

Sometimes I think that being alone isn't that bad.  
That it can help you calm down after a bad situation happened. That it can just be more relaxing than when people are around. That you simply don't need anybody, or better said; you don't want to need them.

At least I used to think that.

Back in my days I also thought that I was better off without anybody. I wanted to be my own man, become independent and handle things my way. I wanted to distance myself from the people I loved; at least for a while. At least until I would sort things out a little bit.

Sometimes I thought that it was necessary to push people away at times. It would keep you sane when you needed some alone time. It would keep you independent.

I was thinking that a lot just a while ago.

Just a short while ago, before the whole world went to hell.

** xXx **

Nobody knew what had happened or how it had happened. Everything had been normal back then.  
It had started with reports of people having gotten incredibly sick. Doctors thought that there might be a new viral disease that infected a huge amount of people in such a short time span. The disease caused a high fever that rose immediately, but just wouldn't go down.  
Those people would cough up blood eventually, they would get incredibly skinny and less responsive the more time passed. The sick ones filled the hospitals in no time and what reached publicity next made that whole story all the more suspicious:  
The infected happened to show one or even more bite marks on their bodies. They reported about a gone insane person biting them out of nowhere and not wanting to let go, so they just ran once they got the person off them.  
No further information would reach the folk, until the first sickened person died in the hospital not even 24 hours after the whole incident. Family members were invited to say their goodbyes, and once they did, it happened.

The son presumed dead had grabbed his father and bitten him. He had gotten up and gone insane, so the only survivor in the room reported, and he had become… murderous.  
Of course that had created a mass hysteria. People were afraid, started to lock themselves up in their houses. Shortly after, every sick person in the hospital that had died came back and created a mess. And then there had to happen what was obvious: everyone who couldn't escape got bitten and ended up dying and coming back…

The situation in the states had gotten worse, young people soon established the word "zombie" for what the sick had become.

In that time, Bruce had been trying to figure out what was going on, but neither could he really find that out. We had been safe in the Manor; Bruce, Alfred, Tim, Damian and me. But what was happening outside couldn't be ignored. I had gone on patrol no matter what everyone said; Damian and Tim had joined me after a while.  
It wasn't that bad back then, but seeing some of those… people on the streets already had been horrible. They looked like monsters…

The more time passed, the worse it got. The dead were flooding the streets, the political system had started to break down and the Special Forces were reaching their limits too. They had camps for the citizens, but some of them had been overrun or were too full to help other people out. People had been begging for entrance, for protection, for food, but their screams would be unheard.

Not only was the outside world breaking down, but our family too.

Bruce had gone insane. He had been doing research all day and night; he had been hell-bent on finding the cause of all this, and he had even done that on… humans. Well, the living dead ones, but they were still human…  
He had gotten crazy about this and one day he had come up with the idea to search for a "better infected" to be running final tests with.

He never came back.

I remember how I thought that being alone isn't that bad seven months ago.

I never regretted a thing more in my life.

**xXx**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I decided to upload the first short chapter of this fic. It's been on my mind (and computer) for such a long time, and I wanted to share that with you. Even if I'm unsure about the crossover-idea, but hey, I'm always unsure, so fuck that! I have so many crossovers in my head (in which Jason and Dick always appear). **

**Hope it makes you want to read more!**

* * *

"Grayson! The stairs!"

"Hff, hff… I got it! I… I got it!"

Completely out of breath, I blocked the staircase to our current hideout while my brother was opening the door to the inside.  
When we hurried inside the place, he immediately started to fumble with his backpack.

"The lock! And the barricade!"

"I got it, Dami, I'm done… Hff… We're safe…!"

Damian and I stood at the entrance to catch our breaths for a moment, peeling our masks off.  
It had been a rough day so far. We had been searching through southern Gotham; everything had gone perfectly; until everything went so wrong once again, like it always did.

"Come on," he grunted when he calmed down and I followed him into the exam room of the doctor's office.  
We were living- we were _hiding_ in that doctor's office for nearly two months now.

I knew that Damian was pissed at me, but I couldn't help it. And I felt guilty for dragging him into all this too… not only because he was just a ten year old. Numbers didn't matter when it came to Damian's maturity.

"God damn it, Grayson," he said outworn as he saw my wounded leg after I sat down on the examination table. Then he made me take off my pants and started treating the wound.

"You are going to get killed if you don't learn to kill _them_!" Damian continued angrily.

"Dami… That's just a scratch- OW!"

"I have told you _so_ many times, Grayson! But you just won't listen! Don't you understand that the world has changed now?!"

"There's no need to kill th-"

"BUT YOU HAVE TO!"

Silence.

I stopped my sentence and looked at my brother whose eyes had gotten suspiciously wet. He looked furious, and I could see something like worry in his eyes too. Maybe his hidden emotions were the reason that made his grip on the wound tighten. That caused me to wince; he released my leg as soon as he noticed that he was hurting me.

"… I apologize," he started and turned his attention to my leg again, "But I will not let this happen to you. I will not let happen what… what happened to _him_. I won't. You are going to learn to kill them, one way or another."

I didn't reply to that and instead looked down. I could understand his concerns, but he couldn't, or wouldn't understand mine.

He had to break the silence eventually, what was pretty weird, because usually it was me who couldn't stand the silence. I guessed that was his way to behave when he worried about something... or someone.

"Why do you have to be such an idiot?"

"They're still human, Damian. I mean- they look human. I can't. I just… can't…"

Damian sighed angrily. He was trying not to burst out, I could tell that.

"Why are we even doing this? We should return to the Manor and do everything from there. Being out here is stupid."

"We have to find him, Damian. You know that. We have to find Tim. After Alfred died-"

"Don't. Don't you say a single word, Grayson. Just don't."

"… Besides, there's no electricity anymore. The fuses blew up, the generators are dried out. We haven't got enough fuel to be running our devices in the whole Manor. We have nothing despite the fence; not to forget that there has to be a shitload of people who tried to find security in our home. Could be that it's full of… _sick_."

"_Infected_," Damian corrected sharply, "_Dead_."

He paused,

"But I guess you have a point. Since father did not take care of anything before he ran off."

Bitterness was in his voice.

"Don't say that, Damian."

"Why? Because it is the truth? I am disappointed in him."

"He didn't just 'run off'. He searched for a cure, he wanted to create an antidote, and therefore he needed-"

"You mean he wanted to create an antidote for something that has not been studied yet? He did not know if it was a virus, or a parasite – he did not know ANYTHING about it to be creating an antidote! These people can't be cured, Richard, they are _dead_! You do not get that and he did not either! "

"We don't know that! Damian, please-"

"Give me a break, Grayson. You keep defending him despite his failure to protect his family! He did not protect _him_, and he is not protecting us. He is gone, and he can stay wherever he is."

"We don't know what happened to him. Maybe he'll come back…"

"Tt, please. We did well when he left us the first time and we will do even better this time. If he happens to come back, he will see that we do not need him!"

Damian had fixed the bandage around my leg so far, so we started examining the new supplies we found. We emptied our backpacks and started filling up the material that we had consumed today, and sorted out what could be useful one day, or not useful at all. Our conversation continued quite quickly:

"Well, if you ask me-"

"I am not asking you."

"I think that, if he really happens to come back, we shouldn't be all too unforgiving considering the circumstances we live under now."

I assumed that Damian didn't want to talk about that topic anymore, because he quickly packed up the amount of bullets and bandages he needed and stowed them into his escape-bag, only to turn his back towards me and lie down on his sleeping bag. That was his way to communicate me that he's had enough for today…

"We do just fine without him," he stated quietly and shifted on his bed.

"Which doesn't mean that we wouldn't do better with him," I replied, looking at his back.

"Whatever, Grayson."

I let out a deep sigh and lay down beside him.

It was a windy, but quiet night. The windows' sealing was old and didn't keep the wind from making us tremble; but it was nothing to actually complain about. We were lucky to have a hideout like that one, because we were fine. We lacked nothing… Except for peace and company. Human company…

Our place was in the fourth floor of a building that had five. Damian and me had built a barricade for the only door that lead inside this room at the very first day we found this. We had blocked the staircase as well, and the elevator was out of order, but we blocked it anyway, to be sure. The fifth floor was empty and planned to be an emergency exit in case we'd get company despite the safety measures; we had made that sure when we had cleaned out the place.

I mean, when Damian had cleaned out the place…

However, everything in here was just fine. Sure, we couldn't stay here forever, and we didn't plan to either; but it was perfect for the moment.

Damian and me would search this part of Gotham until we'd make sure that Tim wasn't here, and then we'd move on. But until then, we'd search for Tim; we'd search every crack in this damned city to find him – even if we would find him as one of… _them_. I'd never forgive myself for having left him alone that day; after Alfred had died…  
I had trusted him to be careful, but I should've known that it would be too risky. Tim didn't come back either and it haunted me since then. I wouldn't rest until I knew what had happened to him, or better said; I couldn't rest. I didn't deserve that peace for having let him down like that. I just had to find him to make my peace with it.

"Stop thinking about Drake," I suddenly heard Damian grunt beside me, "Just go to sleep. We will continue tomorrow."

I smiled weakly and rubbed my eyes. Damian was everything I had left in this world now. Everything – and I would protect him with my life every day.

I would really like to claim that, if it wasn't exactly the other way around as things were going at the moment.  
I would try to do better, for him.

"We will," I replied tiredly, knowing that I wouldn't get any sleep tonight.

**xXx  
**

* * *

**So many unanswered questions, huh?**

**I just noticed that Bruce always seems to be the asshole in my stories. ****I wonder why!**


	3. Chapter 2

"So this is it?" the bloody and dirty woman in front of me asked, a disapproving look on her face while she spoke angrily, "This is what's left of our superheroes? A weak Nightwing with a weak Robin who only try to save their own asses?!"

"That's not true-"

"HELL it is! I've seen you guys...!" A vicious whisper was what came out of her mouth while she was still aiming her gun at me, "I asked you for help! I- I just needed a little help! All you had to sacrifice to save us was one bullet! Just ONE fucking bullet, but instead you let him die! And with him, all that was left of me died too...!"

Her accusations turned into hysterical sobs while her grip around her pistol seemed to get more nervous, so she held it with two hands. Her eyes were red and swollen from her crying, and suddenly her tears turned into blood. I widened my eyes and peeked over to Damian, but as I saw him, I couldn't believe my eyes. He glared at me from underneath his mask, when blood started flowing down his cheek too. He touched the wet substance and looked up at me, suddenly falling to his knees and making me catch his little body, while the cries of the woman seemed to get louder and louder.

"Robin?! Robin! Are you okay?! What did you do to him?!"

The woman's gaze became piercing and her devastated facial expression turned into laughing.

"What I did- I let him die. Just like you let _him_ die. How does that feel, huh? How does it feel to lose the only person around you?" She giggled, while more blood tears streamed down her face until it was completely bloody.

"Do you feel it?" she whispered, her voice only a croak, „Do you feel the burning in your chest? Do you feel your world starting to crack, and break down? Do you feel it, you son of a bitch?! Do you feel how you're dying from the inside...?"

I wasn't able to look at her as I stared at Robin's lifeless body in my hands, wide eyed.

"Yeah, feel it. Give in to the hurt and the hate, and let it drag your remains down to hell."

She removed the security from her gun and aimed again.

"You're not a hero. You're just like everyone else. Pathetic and weak... And now you're alone. Let the feeling eat you up. You'll never be able to recover from this. It's what you deserve."

She moved her finger onto the trigger, and she shot.

Her corpse fell down with a loud thud.

**oOoOoOo**

"Richard. Richard!"

"Robin... No...!"

"Richard! Wake up!"

I shot my eyes open and sat up with a sudden move. I tried to catch my breath and looked around while someone was shaking me by my shoulders.

"Hey! It... It is me, Damian."

My gaze met his, "Damian...?"

"Alive and healthy, except for the fact that you nearly scared me to death with your cries and screams."

Cries and screams? I slowly lifted my hand to touch my cheek and I felt the wet and warm substance on it. Tears.

Then I remembered.

"That nightmare again?" Damian asked, surprisingly without annoyance in his tone.

"We could've saved her, Damian. We could've saved her. She was right with what she said!"

I clenched my eyes shut.

"We could have done nothing, Richard. She and her boyfriend were already dead. There were too many bastards."

"We could've rescued them."

"Yes, and the fight would have attracted every bastard within a mile. We could not have saved them. Sometimes you have to make choices, Richard. And my choice was to get us safe to our hideout."

"We told her that we didn't have bullets."

"We didn't want her to have hope that we would have destroyed anyway. We made it easier to let go."

"I didn't see her die, Damian. She could be all alone now and we did nothing to spare her from the pain she had to go through."

"There is no chance she survived this. She was screaming and clutching at her bitten boyfriend; the bastards must have gotten to her."

"Is that any better...?"

Damian seemed thoughtful for a moment.

"Just see it this way: She and her beloved are together now. And nobody can hurt them anymore."

He knew what he had to say to make me calm down, but my concerns were still there.

"You should go to one of the camps," I said quietly, looking down at my hands.

"What?"

"You heard me," I replied louder and looked at my brother, "I never wanted to drag you into all this. It's too dangerous..."

"... Says the one who got his leg ripped open by a window."

"Damian, I mean it! I should do this alone, since it's all my fault and I'm the eldest son. You are supposed to be safe somewhere."

"You cannot be serious. You will die without me, you idiot! As far as I can remember it was always ME who saved YOU from everything!"

... He was right and I was ashamed.

"Please. I don't want you to get hurt. I only have you left in this world now."

"And so do I. If I leave, you will die, and then it is me who lost his brother. I will not leave. Never."

"Damian..."

"This is not a discussion. We keep searching for Drake, together. And if we do not find him, or if he is dead, we will move on together. Understood?"

"... I-"

"Great. Now get some sleep, I don't think that four hours are enough for your leg to recover."

Damian pushed me down on the sleeping bag and awkwardly pressed my head to his chest.

And again it was him giving comfort when I should be the one who did.

I fell asleep with Damian's soothing breathing calming me down.

**xXx**

"About earlier..." I started as Damian was walking ahead of me.

We had gotten up by 6.30 in the morning and were heading outside. We shoved the barricades aside to be able to leave, when Damian answered:

"Do not start."

"I just wanted to say thanks. I don't know what I would've done by now. If you weren't here, I mean."

We arrived outside and first of all hid behind the big columns of the building to take a look at the streets. It was pretty calm from what you could hear. Moans were normal by now, but the current situation didn't look too bad. It was pretty safe to go.

"Which is why I should not leave under any circumstances," Damian continued after moments of silence and surveillance.

"... We'll talk about that. Alright Dami, here we go again."

We darted out of the hideout and walked along the street. The worst thing about Gotham was that bushes were rare and you didn't really have something to hide behind, so we were pretty vulnerable out here. But of course we knew how to deal with that.

"Up to the roofs again, and then the costumes."

"Costumes," Damian quietly repeated with a scoff, but he obeyed.

Soon we had walked into a nearby alley and climbed a building by its fire escape. When we were on the roof, Damian and me settled behind the chimney to get ready.  
We grabbed our backpacks in which we kept our suits and masks in. Well, not really suits. The only part of our suits that had remained was the mask. 

Our suits were too damaged by our daily tours. It's not that we couldn't have replaced them with new ones that we still had in the Batcave; but after many incidents in which we couldn't help (said Damian), we decided to stay more in the shadows. We were the only persons close to superheroes as it seemed, and it killed me to hear my superhero name without being able to help. And maybe Damian was right sometimes when the situation just seemed inescapable... 

However we decided on pants made out of flexible fabric, robust boots and a big sweater whose hood we would always wear to be disguised. In case the hood would drop back during precarious situations, we'd still have the mask to conceal our faces.  
Mine was blue and Damian's was green. 

It was necessary because we still had some bat-tools like the Batclaw that would give away who we really were, and in a world like this, people's hopes shouldn't be crashed like that. Everyone would lose hope if they'd find out that only presumed rich people could be heroes. Nobody would believe in spoiled billionaire's sons, and neither this outcome of our world was worth revealing secrets, giving up or letting people lose hope. They never needed it as much as now,  
but we needed protection as well, since we were only the two of us. 

Of course we had an advantage with the tools we had, since moving in the air and on the roofs was much safer than anything else, but the thing was that once we reached the district that we had to search for Tim, we had to move on the streets to find evidence. We had already searched the whole town from every rooftop, but that wasn't enough. 

It was more likely that something happened to him when he was down there. 

Something must have happened to him; He would never leave us without saying a word. Never. 

And we would find out what that was.


End file.
